


Possession is Nine-Tenths of the Law

by DebbieF



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Demonic Possession, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 04:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2678438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DebbieF/pseuds/DebbieF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>D'Artagnan picks up a hitch hiker.</p><p>See notes at the end for translations of what Malphas says.</p><p>++++</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possession is Nine-Tenths of the Law

*On the way back to the garrison from the town of Courbevoie, early evening*

“I’m glad we finally left that chateau behind us,” Porthos pretended to shiver. “A right spooky place that was.”

“Yes,” Aramis hummed in agreement. “It did not have a welcome feeling to it. And then there was the butler’s strange actions,” he frowned. “Extremely odd behavior.”

“I remember,” Athos glanced at his friends who rode on either side of him, d’Artagnan holding up the rear. “He more or less pushed us out the door as fast as humanly possible.”

“This house isn’t for you,” Aramis repeated the butler’s words to them out loud. “Now what the deuce was that all about you suppose?”

“Yeah, then there was the frightened look in his eyes when he spotted d’Artagnan,” Porthos grunted. “You’d have thought he saw a ghost.”

Up to now d’Artagnan had held his tongue, keeping his own council but he finally had enough of his companions. “Idiots, the lot of them,” he mumbled low.

Now Porthos’s hearing was excellent and the boy’s words floated on the wind to be heard quite well by the large Musketeer. He frowned, wondering if he should reprimand their youngest or just let it slide this time. Could be d’Artagnan was just irritated that they had to ride back and not stay the night at the chateau. They were all a bit surprised at that themselves.

“Ah well,” Aramis sighed elegantly, “I do not feel like taxing my brain over the matter anymore. What’s done is done.”

“Like you have a brain to tax,” d’Artagnan snorted quietly but yet not quietly enough for Aramis’s ears had perked up at the child’s remark. Glancing over his shoulder at the youngster, Aramis wondered what had soured d’Artagnan’s mood so. For the boy’s words did not sound in jest.

“D’Artagnan,” Athos turned in his seat to stare icily at the boy, for he too could not miss the words issued forth from their young comrade. To say he was not pleased would be putting it lightly as he stabbed his protégé with a piercing look, “is there something you’d care to share with the rest of us?”

“Why should I bother,” d’Artagnan snarled. “None of you ever listen to me anyway!” Then in a hushed tone he added, "Stupid Musketeers.”

Pulling on Roulette’s reigns, Porthos stopped and grabbed Zad’s to halt the other horse’s progress. “Now look, lad,” he growled, “I don’t know what bee went up your ass, but if ya got something to say to the rest of us just spit it out plain like.” 

“I do not know why I bother hanging around you three,” d’Artagnan shook his head sadly at the inseparables. “Truly, I’m associated with the worst of the regiment,” he taunted, thoroughly enjoying himself at their expense. 

Looking at Porthos’s shocked face d’Artagnan chuckled. “An ex-thief and card shark from the Court of Miracles,” he smirked. Glancing at Aramis, his usual warm, brown eyes hardened nearly turning black. “A man who turned away from the church,” his mirth gained the upper hand again as more mocking words tumbled out of his mouth. “You would have made a piss poor cleric. Pretending to be all pious while in secret lifting up the skirts of any willing wench.”

Silence filled the air as none of the Musketeers could formulate a comeback to counter d’Artagnan’s attack on them. Such was their astonishment at what the boy truly thought.

“Then there’s my dear Athos,” d’Artagnan sneered. “Poor sod taken in by a set of pretty green eyes. Not knowing what a cold hearted bitch Milady truly was.” Looking into the man’s cold, blue eyes, d’Artagnan’s own flared into life. “And you’re supposed to be my teacher,” he scoffed. D'Artagnan gazed into the faces of each stunned Musketeer then giggled. “All of you a twitter over a simple house.”

Urging Zad forward, d'Artagnan pulled away from Porthos’s grip on the reigns. He rode past the three silent men, overtaking them. Then suddenly he stopped and turned his mount around. “On second thought, Athos, I should have taken Milady up on her offer to work with her and the Cardinal. I’m sure life would have been more interesting in and out of her bed.” Hoping to get a rise out of the older Musketeer, d’Artagnan was slightly peeved when Athos didn’t take the bait.

“Did d’Artagnan injure himself in some way when we weren’t aware?” Athos whispered to his companions. This surely wasn’t the actions of the youngster he came to care about like a son.

Studying the boy shrewdly, Aramis’s eyes narrowed. “I do not believe that is our pup talking.”

“Then pray tell us who it is? For he certainly looks like our d’Artagnan,” Athos arched his brow, thinking perhaps he should be concerned about Aramis’s whits now as well.

“Introduce yourself to us if you please, demon!” Aramis commanded toward the boy. While Athos and Porthos seemed bewildered by this turn of events. 

“Gladly,” d’Artagnan’s voice lowered in pitch as he bowed forward as much as he was able to on horseback. When he lifted his face to Aramis his eyes glowed with red fire. “Malphas at your service,” he laughed deeply as he sat quite relaxed on Zad.

“Aramis,” Porthos hissed, “what the hell’s goin’ on here?”

“The child’s possessed by a demon,” Aramis retorted urgently.

“The house?” Athos questioned as he turned pale at what that meant for their youngster.

“Would explain the bum’s rush we got after deliverin’ our letter,” Porthos offered. He was used to dealing with flesh and blood people not demon spawn from hell.

“I want to thank you gentlemen for giving me such a fine body to inhabit,” d’Artagnan grinned, his eyes faintly glowing red still.

“Which you will leave at once!” Aramis ordered in anger as he reached for the cross he constantly wore around his neck.

"My dear good fellow," d'Artagnan snickered, "don't you know possession is nine-tenths of the law?" his eyes flashed at the Musketeer. "I'm in control of the boy's body now," he shrugged lightly, "therefore I own it." Watching Aramis, d'Artagnan shook his head ruefully and sighed. Holding up his hand, d’Artagnan tsked the Musketeer. “Don’t bother using that on me, Aramis. All it will do is cause me mild discomfort at best.” He watched the other man pause in his actions and then let his hand drop to his side.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to get out of that damn house!” d’Artagnan snapped. “Finally escape seemed possible when the soul I needed walked right through those doors,” he gave them a dismissive stare. “You’re all fools! The boy’s better off on his own away from your poor influences.”

“Aramis,” Athos whispered in the man’s ear, “tell me we have a plan formulated?”

“Working on it actually,” was the mild response from Aramis.

“Do stop your whispering,” d’Artagnan scolded. “It’s rude you know.” He was disgusted with these humans and couldn’t wait to be rid of them. “Pathetic creatures,” he spat at them. Then doing a turnabout, d’Artagnan smiled sweetly. “You know in England they’ve coined a word I’ve rather taken a fancy too. Describes you three quite admirably.”

“I dare say you’re going to tell us,” Athos remarked dryly, trying to remain casual while he dealt with a rage he had never known before, mixed with a good dose of fear.

“You’re all *Twits*,” d’Artagnan observed three sets of stern faces scowling at him in displeasure and thought it rather amusing. “You do realize I’m only articulating what this boy fears to voice.”

“Non! That’s not d’Artagnan’s thoughts!” Athos argued. He of all of them knew the true heart of the boy.

“So, Malphas,” Porthos tried to buy them some time until they could come up with a solution to this mess, “how’d you get stuck in that chateau?” He wanted nothing better than to shake the demon out of their pup but knew it wouldn’t be that simple.

“I went on a killing spree in that place decades ago,” d’Artagnan huffed, annoyed he had to explain anything to these men. “But a monk from a nearby monastery was brought in to cleanse the house and prayed to your God to intervene to stop further killings I may have intended,” d’Artagnan shrugged. “So I became trapped there, but with a caveat.” 

“Until we walked in,” Aramis finished softly, wishing with all his heart it were him the demon had taken possession of and not their boy.

“Yes,” d’Artagnan nodded. “As soon as I spotted the child I knew my freedom was at hand,” he tilted his head as he watched them look at each other in dismay. “I needed a soul that couldn’t be corrupted or I was doomed forever.” Feeling like trying out his new body, d’Artagnan decided to get off Zad and stretch his legs a bit. “You more or less gave d'Artagnan to me gift wrapped.”

Seeing the young man get down from his horse the others followed his example. Figuring they wouldn’t get a better chance than this Aramis acted on instinct. “Rush him!” he screamed at his friends, only to find out it was in vein.

With a flick of his finger d’Artagnan had the handsome Musketeer flying backwards through the air, landing with a resounding smack against the nearest tree. “Pffft! Is that all you’ve got,” he chuckled. “I expected better of you.”

“Aramis!” Both Porthos and Athos cried out together as they rushed over to aid their friend.

Feeling the back of Aramis’s head, Athos detected a nice sized lump. “How’s your back feeling?”

“Like I hit a tree,” Aramis grimaced in pain as he tried to bring everything back into focus.

Walking over to the trio, d’Artagnan had one hand on the hilt of his sword. “For the boy’s sake I will not kill any of you,” he frowned at himself. “I do not know why I’m being so generous,” he started to back away from them. “Could be I’m just pleased to have my freedom finally.”

“Porthos, go get some of that salve out of Aramis’s saddlebags,” Athos requested. “I want to apply some to the cut on the back of his head.”

“Right,” Porthos growled as he kept his eyes trained on d’Artagnan’s whereabouts. As he searched through Aramis’s things, his hand encountered a few items that he knew did not belong to his friend. Walking back over to them, Porthos hunched over and held out a cloth to Athos. He blocked d’Artagnan’s view so the lad couldn’t see what he had discovered in the saddlebags.

As Athos unrolled the cloth, his eyes widened in surprise. “Aramis... look.” He held out the two items for view.

“The butler must have had someone put those in there,” Aramis whispered quietly. “Remember the odd look he gave d’Artagnan?”

“Along with turning white as a sheet,” Porthos added. At the time he just thought the butler was feeling ill. More like ill at ease.”

“He knew what was going to happen,” Athos surmised. “Can you make use of these?”

“Help me up and we’ll see.” As he struggled to get back on his feet, Aramis slipped the items into his doublet, out of d’Artagnan’s sight.

“I think I will leave you now,” d’Artagnan remarked casually. “It’s been fun but I’m eager to go out into the world and do all sorts of evil deeds,” he grinned devilishly at them.

“Malphas,” Aramis said as he got closer to the boy, “what do we have to do to bargain for d’Artagnan’s soul?”

“Nothing... absolutely nothing,” d’Artagnan sing-songed. “You’re never getting the youngster back. He belongs to me now!” As d’Artagnan said those last words his voice deepened into something very dark and disturbing. He could tell the other men were now finally realizing they lost this battle. But so focused was he on his victory, d’Artagnan missed seeing Aramis remove a small bottle from his doublet, along with a medium-sized silver cross.

“I beg to differ with you on that,” Aramis smiled pleasantly as he threw holy water all over the youngster, causing d’Artagnan to howl in agony. “Now Porthos... Athos!”

With the demon weakened from the holy water, the three Musketeers were able to subdue d'Artagnan and tie him up.

“You think this will stop me!” d’Artagnan screeched. “N nbb cnbb oep mbb!”

“What’s that rubbish he’s spoutin’ off?” Porthos asked. He never heard anything like it before and hoped to heaven he never would.

“He’s speaking in the demon’s tongue,” Aramis replied instantly, "and I haven’t a clue what it was but it didn’t sound promising for us.”

“Hurry up and place that cross on him,” Athos urged. “Perhaps he’ll make a deal with us to leave d’Artagnan if we stop his pain.”

Watching Aramis approach, d’Artagnan spat more venom at him. “Epbd fl wgnlih! N nbb glbnir oepg dlmhr!” Then he screamed and screamed in agony as Aramis placed the cross on d’Artagnan’s chest and it burned into his flesh.

“Mon dieu! Stop it, Aramis!” Porthos shouted. “That’s d’Artagnan you’re hurting!”

“Right now it’s Malphas!” Aramis fired back. He was sickened by the smell of burning flesh as was his friends. But this had to be done or all was lost for their young friend and for them.

“Aramis,” Athos placed a hand on his comrade’s back, “are you sure about this?”

“As I can be of anything, mon ami,” Aramis’s brown eyes held tears he was refusing to shed before the demon. He knew he was hurting d’Artagnan but there wasn’t anything else he could do. “Leave him this instant!” he ordered harshly.

“NON! HE’S MINE!” d’Artagnan howled out through his pain as he writhed underneath the weight of the cross. “ANJL ZEG MBB LHLGJNHO!” 

“Guys,” Porthos interrupted, “if this works, where’s he gonna go too?”

“Good question,” Athos waited for Aramis to supply an adequate answer.

Still holding the cross on d’Artagnan’s heaving chest, Aramis seemed momentarily confused. “I haven't thought that far ahead yet.”

“He has to go somewhere and I’m tellin’ you now it ain’t gonna be in me,” Porthos growled.

“Nor I,” Athos shook his head.

Struck by an idea, Aramis glanced at Porthos. “Would you please go search my saddlebags again to see if the butler gave us anything else to use.” Keeping one eye on d’Artagnan, Aramis watched Porthos cross over to Belle and then come back to him holding a tiny box in his hand. “What is it?”

“There was a note attached,” Porthos unfolded the paper and began to read it in a whisper of a voice, afraid for Malphas to hear. “If you can manage to get the demon out of your young friend, hold this box open as close to the boy as you dare and the monster will be trapped inside. It was blessed by a monk and is a very powerful holy relic.”

Reaching out his hand for it, Aramis leaned down into d’Artagnan’s face. “If you leave the boy right this minute, we’ll find you another vessel to survive inside of.”

“You lie!” D’Artagnan spat spittle in Aramis’s face as he screamed at him.

Determination hardened his words. “Me for him!” Aramis offered, earning protests from both men at his side. 

“You!” d’Artagnan snickered through his pain. “Why would you do that?”

“For love of the boy and somehow I doubt you’d be inside me long enough,” Aramis smirked. “With my Christian upbringing I’d be especially boring to one such as you.”

“I’m not exactly in the greatest position to refuse,” d’Artagnan snarled. “All right! It’s a deal!”

Removing the cross from d’Artagnan’s chest, Aramis and Athos helped the boy sit up, though they still kept him tied. But they didn’t get that far as the youngster’s body began convulsing and his eyes rolled up in the back of his head.

“What is happening?” Any color Athos had leeched out of him at what d'Artagnan was going through as he held the child wrapped tightly in his arms. 

“It appears that d’Artagnan’s suffering a seizure,” Aramis mused. “Hopefully this is a good sign.”

“Of what?” Athos snapped. “Look at him! He’s in a great deal of pain.”

“Yes, but we just made a devil’s bargain and what's happening to d’Artagnan’s now means that Malphas is leaving him for me,” Aramis countered with a wink, “or so the demon believes.”

All three Musketeers witnessed a dark, translucent form rising out of d’Artagnan’s body and hover in the air above him briefly. But before the demon could jump hosts, Aramis lifted the little box up in the air just above the boy's head capturing Malphas instantly inside it.

They all heard the blasphemous words hurled at them from the demon as Malphas realized he had been tricked. But they’d worry about what to do with him later as their major concern was d’Artagnan who collapsed into Athos’s arms.

“Look at the mark on his chest,” Porthos said in awe. “It’s fadin’ away like it was never there.”

Making the sign of the cross, Aramis bent over d'Artagnan and said a prayer of thanks to God for saving their youngest from an all too cruel fate.

Opening his eyes slowly, the young Musketeer blinked owlishly at Athos who was brushing his long, sweaty hair from his face.

“Why are you holding me, Athos?”

“Oh, we could have fun with that line,” Porthos quipped with a wink at both his very relieved friends.

“You’ve been carrying an extra passenger around after our brief stint at the chateau,” Athos noticed d’Artagnan wasn’t really that aware yet and so tapped his cheek gently to get his attention. “Still with us, pup?”

“Uh huh,” d’Artagnan whispered as his eyes tracked a little, shiny object held within Aramis's hands. “What’s that?”

Glancing at the small box he was holding, Aramis thought about it for a moment and then his eyes twinkled. “A demon’s bargain.”

“Athos?” d’Artagnan was still held close in Athos’s arms. His mentor didn’t seem to be in a big hurry to let go anytime soon. But not having the energy to move, d’Artagnan didn’t struggle to remove himself from their comfort. “What’s this about unwanted passengers?” Hearing Porthos’s snort of laughter had d’Artagnan turning his head to stare at his huge friend with glad eyes.

“Aye, lad,” Porthos patted d’Artagnan gently on the chest. “That’s a tale to entertain ya with on our way back to Paris.”

“You’re all acting quite strange,” d’Artagnan murmured, closing his eyes as his head lolled onto Athos’s broad shoulder.

“I think the poor child’s all tuckered out,” Porthos went to retrieve a blanket from his saddlebags. When he returned, he covered their young one with it. “There ya go,” Porthos smiled. “All snug as a bug.”

“Mmmmm,” d’Artagnan snuggled into Athos’s warmth, feeling a gentle hand on the top of his head along with a swift kiss to his temple.

“Let’s make camp for the night,” Aramis suggested. “I think we’ll be safe enough.”

“What are we going to do with that box?” Athos settled d’Artagnan down on a nest of blankets they piled together. It was a warm enough night that the rest of them wouldn’t need the protection.

“Didn’t we pass a monastery on the way to the chateau?” Porthos looked over at Aramis forconfirmation.

Snapping his fingers, Aramis grinned. “How much you want to bet that’s the same monastery the monk who blessed the chateau came from?”

“I'll pass on that bet as long as we can get rid of that thing." Porthos had the creeps still thinking about it.

"Then we can deliver it to them to safeguard first thing in the morning,” Athos was pleased at this news. He didn’t want them to be riding around with a demon in a box for very long.

“Do ya think the kid will believe our story when we try to explain what happened to him?” Porthos doubted it.

“I doubt he’ll have any memories of his possession,” Aramis shrugged. “He’s always trusted us before, knowing we would never lie to him.”

Clearing his throat loudly, Athos gave Aramis a pointed stare. “I remember a time or two when we have stretched the truth a bit far to keep d’Artagnan safe.”

Not deigning to answer that, Aramis went to lie down. Pulling his hat over his face, he waved a hand in the air. “Let’s all sleep on it and play it by ear tomorrow.”

“I’m all for that,” Porthos agreed as he too stretched out on the ground. “Fightin’ demons is hard work.”

“Amen,” Aramis whispered as he closed his eyes and went into the arms of Morpheus.

++++

NOTES:  
Got this off of a website for demonic languages. If a word begins with a W it is silent and left out.

N nbb cnbb oep mbb - I will kill you all!

epbd fl wgnlih! N nbb glbnir oepg dlmhr - Would be priest! I will relish your death!

ANJL ZEG MBB LHLGJNHO! - MINE FOR ALL ETERNITY!


End file.
